Irkens Go Postal
by Red Witch
Summary: Even Intergalactic warlords have problems with their mail.


**The disclaimer saying I don't own any Invader Zim characters is lost in the mail. The following is just madness. MADNESS! **

**Irkens Go Postal**

"I'm telling you Purple, this time I've got it!" Red cackled as they stood on the bridge of the Massive. "It's the **perfect** idea to get rid of Zim."

"We've had quite a few perfect ideas to get rid of Zim and they haven't exactly worked out so far," Purple grumbled.

"Yes but this time it's simplicity itself," Red smirked. "I sent him some chocolates filled to the brim with Irkenite Explosive. The second he eats just one of those suckers…BOOOM! He's blown up into a billion bits along with at least a good chunk of the planet he's on!"

"But Red…" Purple began.

"I **know** what you are going to say," Red interrupted. "What if Zim doesn't eat the candy? What if Gir or that moose creature or some other stupid thing eats the candy instead? Doesn't matter! You know why? Because if anything, and I mean **anything** eats that candy…It will blow up everything and I mean **everything** for at least ten thousand miles!"

"Ten thousand…How potent is that Irkenite Explosive?" Purple gasped.

"I cranked it up to eleven!" Red cackled.

"Eleven! That's one more than **ten!** And ten is the highest recommended level there is for Irkenite Explosive!" Purple gasped. "It'll take out half the planet!"

"So?"

"So I **like** it," Purple grinned. "I like it a lot."

"I **knew** you would," Red grinned.

"I take it you gave him an order to contact you as soon as he got the package?" Purple grinned. "So we can watch him explode?"

"Of course," Red grinned. "Oh I can't wait until…"

"Sir, we're getting a transmission from Earth," An Irken told them.

"YES! Put in through! Here we go," Red rubbed his hands. "Zim! How are you? What's new?"

"My Tallest! I want to personally thank you for your generous gift," Zim grinned like the idiot he was.

"Well we thought it was something you **deserved,**" Red grinned.

"Yes my Tallest! And that money in my account will be well spent!" Zim grinned.

"Well I'm glad you…Wait **money**?" Red did a double take.

"Yes those access codes to increase my spending account for my invasion plans will be cut in **half** the time I plan on taking over this mud ball of a planet," Zim grinned.

"Okay first Zim, you're only supposed to **observe** the planet for now. Not invade yet," Red told him. "No invasion! Not yet! And second…Are you **sure** that's all you got? Isn't there anything else there? Any packages?"

"Oh yes!" Zim nodded enthusiastically. "There was!"

"Oh good…" Red grinned.

"That experimental do it yourself space station will really come in handy!" Zim grinned. He took out a box. "All I have to do is set it outside and push the button and it launches and builds itself! I love it!"

"I don't **believe** it!" Red sputtered.

"I know! I can't believe you believe in me so much!" Zim was choked up. "I will make you proud of me My Tallest! I will…"

Red personally shut off the transmission from Earth. "I don't believe it. How does he **do** it? How does he do it without even trying?"

"Okay hold on a second…" Purple held up his hand. "Let me see if I can figure this out. If Zim got moneys and an experimental do it yourself space station…Where did the candy full of explosives go?"

"Sir, transmission from General Vort from his warship the Missive 34," An Invader told him.

"Isn't he supposed to be invading a planet today? What's he calling for?" Purple asked.

A large tall Irken warrior was soon on screen. "My Tallest! My warship is ready and filled with ten thousand of our greatest warriors and soldiers to take hold of Planet Mopkin and finally bring it under our heel! I have also assembled on my ship a fleet of our most powerful Voot Cruisers and fighter ships as well as two hundred Death Bots and Doom Walkers in order to ensure the missions success!"

"Well that's very nice of you to tell us Vort but why are you calling us now **before** the planet has been conquered?" Red asked.

"Why to personally thank you for the box of chocolates you've given me!" Vort held up a candy to his mouth. "I'm really touched! And I know they'll be delicious."

"Oh well yes, you are one of our best generals and you deserve…" Red then realized what was going to happen. "NO! DON'T EAT THAT?"

Too late. Vort ate it. "What was that my Tall…?"

!

"We just blew up one of our best generals and one of our most powerful ships didn't we?" Purple asked.

"Yes, we did…" Red sighed as he slapped his forehead.

"Sir we're getting a call from Planet Devastasis asking for their moneys and an experimental space station that can put itself together," An Irken said.

"Ah I see what happened now…" Red sighed. "Tell 'em we'll call them back."

"So it was a mix up with the mail huh?" Purple asked.

"Apparently so," Red groaned. "Remind me to put in a call to Planet Postal the prison slash mail Sorting planet."

"Yeah it sounds like somebody down there really screwed up," Purple nodded.

"Got a call in from Irk," An Irken told them. "It's one of our scientists."

"My Tallest, this is Jib, Head of Dissection and Alien Studies," An Irken spoke.

"Oh hi Jib, how's it going?" Red asked.

"Not well. We were supposed to get some prisoners and alien samples weeks ago but for some reason Planet Postal isn't responding to our calls," Jib folded his arms. "I don't need to tell you how important our work is."

"Uh yes but could you just remind Purple of that for a minute?" Red couldn't remember either.

"The more alien life forms we study the stronger we will be for future invasions," Jib explained. "And we haven't had anything to dissect for months. My staff is really getting bored."

"Oh yeah. I'll get right on that Jib," Red nodded and turned off the communicator. "As if I don't have anything better to do today!"

"But we don't have anything better to do today Red," Purple said.

"That's not the point, Purple!" Red snapped.

"My Tallest we're getting a call from Planet Plinko," An Irken said.

"Isn't that the gambling casino planet we made up to take money away from the members of our empire?" Purple asked.

"Yeah what do they want?" Red made a motion to take the call.

"HELP! MY TALLEST! HELP! WE GOT THESE CRAZY ALIENS IN THE MAIL AND…AAAAHHHHH!" An Irken was dragged away by a tentacle.

"I think we just found Jib's prisoners and samples," Red sighed.

Several aliens were running amok, playing the slot machines, setting fire to roulette tables and several were eating nachos. "The nachos are ours! FREE THE NACHOS!"

"Boy they must really love their nachos," Purple blinked. "Not that I blame them but…"

"WHAT THE FLORK IS GOING **ON** HERE?" Red yelled. "CALL PLANET POSTAL IMMEDIATELY!"

Several hours later…

"Postmaster Warden Ral, can you explain to us, Your Tallest about the situation on Planet Postal?" Red folded his arms as another Irken was brought to them on board the Massive.

"Situation, My Tallest?" Ral, a somewhat tall Irken with a very long head gulped.

"Yeah you know? All these packages that are not getting sent and or being sent somewhere else?" Red snapped.

"Oh…**That** situation," Ral gulped.

"Yeah **that **situation," Red snapped. "We've been getting complaints all day about packages and mail not showing up or going to the wrong address!"

"Do you know what happens when one set of highly powerful explosives is sent to the **wrong place?"** Purple asked. "It's not pretty."

"Yes uh we've figured out the problem, My Tallest," Ral explained.

"And what **was** the problem?" Purple growled.

"One of our prisoners that sorts the mail, Vortian Prisoner 777 was a bit…hostile…" Ral told them. "Apparently in an attempt to sabotage the Irken Empire he deliberately and with great malice tampered with our mail system."

"Aren't there guards or something to make sure that doesn't happen?" Red asked.

"Well uh, the guards are mostly there to make sure the prisoners don't escape the planet, My Tallest. Not watch the prisoners sort mail," Ral explained.

"I see…" Red let out an annoyed breath.

"Apparently Vortian Prisoner 777 and many of his fellow prisoners were able to mix and sort several labels and send many important packages to different locations," Ral explained.

"Like Earth?" Red raised an antennae.

"Yeah and uh you know those really important blueprints of those new warships that were supposed to go to Devastasis?" Ral gulped. "And those brand new blasters that are supposed to be better and stronger than our old ones? And some other really top secret invasion plans?"

"Yeah?" Red folded his arms. "What about them?"

"They didn't go to their supposed destinations," Ral told them.

"And where exactly **did** they go?" Purple asked.

"Uh you are gonna **laugh** at this," Ral scratched his head. "Apparently the prisoners tampered with the mail, and changed the labels and sent them…To the Resisty."

"The **who?**" Red glared at him.

"The Resisty. You know? Those **losers** that are trying to fight against our all powerful empire?" Ral tried to chuckle. "I mean it's pretty laughable if you think about it. Mailing stuff to the Resisty! Stupid right?"

"I see…" Red narrowed his eyes. "And approximately **how many** packages were sent to the Resisty?"

"Approximately? As in a rough estimate?" Ral gulped as he read the form. "Well uh…Keep in mind not all of the packages sent were secret war stuff. A lot of them were stupid basic things like snacks…and food and…Oh you know…Basic inconsequential things…"

"I don't consider snacks or **any **kind of food or aid to the Resisty inconsequential at all!" Purple growled. "I don't care if they mainly sent boxes of **paper clips!** How many packages where there?"

"In all? Total? Over the course of three years…The complete number is…" Ral gulped. "Two million four hundred thousand and thirty seven."

"Two million… four hundred thousand… and **thirty seven**?" Red growled.

"Give or take a few, yes My Tallest," Ral gulped.

"Over **three years?"** Purple yelled. "It took you **three years** to figure out that there was something wrong with the mail system!"

"Well we are the post office, We're supposed to be slow," Ral blinked.

"NOT **THAT** SLOW!" Purple yelled.

"And I take it that you have **executed** all those prisoners that 'misplaced' our mail?" Red growled.

"Well uh we would have My Tallest if they hadn't all snuck into packages and mailed themselves to freedom," Ral gulped. "That's kind of how we found out about the whole episode. When the packages started to pile up and stuff…"

"I see…" Red sighed. "Ral. Come here a minute."

"Y-Yes my Tallest?" Red nervously followed him.

"Take a look over here," Red pointed to a medium sized hole in the wall. "Do you know what this is?"

"Uh it looks like a garbage chute that sends all the refuse immediately into the incinerator below decks, Sir," Ral gulped.

"It does look like that doesn't it?" Red said in a deceptively warm voice. "But looks can be deceiving. Take a look in there. Poke your head in," He pushed a button and opened the hole. "Tell me what you see."

"I see a big hole my Tal-!" Ral howled as he poked his head in and Red kicked him down the chute. "AAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

"Oh wait, I was wrong," Red hit the button, shutting the chute. "It **is** a garbage chute that sends the refuse directly to an incinerator!"

"Maybe we should rethink our policy on having prisoners sort our mail?" Purple blinked.

"NO YA THINK?" Red shouted.


End file.
